


3B

by nothingnothingtralala



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (college au for you Americans), F/M, I know it's all been done before, Oh look, There is no plot, also there are chat logs, because i have no originality, it's another university au, or there might be later but srsly don't read this for plot, so why worry about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingnothingtralala/pseuds/nothingnothingtralala
Summary: When Marinette moves out to university, she's nervous about meeting her new flatmates. As it turns out, they're pretty nice. Also, one of them is a model - a really gorgeous, kind, lovely model called Adrien Agreste. You'd think that'd be more than enough to cope with on top of her first year of uni, but no, now there's a bug-thing in her room saying something about magical earrings...AKA the university AU no one asked for because I have no self-restraint. :)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 23
Kudos: 70





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers:   
> \- I am a full-time mum and also run my own editing business so updates are likely to be... sporadic. Really sorry about this! I will do my best, though!  
> \- I know NOTHING about the university system in France. When I did some research, I went down a black hole and lost 4 hours of precious writing time, so now I've just thrown caution to the winds. No, none of this is likely to be accurate. Yes, it's partly based on my own university experience in the UK. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Please just ignore any and all inaccuracies!  
> \- This has been done a thousand times before, so apologies if it seems repetitive/derivative - I haven't read a huge amount of ML fic but I do have a soft spot for group chat antics. Forgive me!

“We love you very much,” said Sabine Cheng, looking at her daughter with a suspicious gleam in her eye that Marinette would have guessed to be tears except for the fact that she had literally never seen her mother cry. “Be careful, okay?”

Tom, Marinette’s father, had bypassed suspicious gleams hours ago and was trying, unsuccessfully, to dry his eyes. He opened his arms and enveloped Marinette in an enormous bear hug.

“We’ll miss you in the bakery, _ma petite._ No one can make macarons like you can.”

“I’ll visit all the time!” Marinette promised them, pretending she wasn’t sniffling a little herself. Really, this wasn’t the agonising separation they seemed to think it to be – she would only be a couple of hours away, not across the country or even overseas as some of her old lycée classmates were heading. All the same, it would be strange not to be living at home with her parents. She had little to no idea what to expect from university, and all things considered, it was with an unsettling flutter in her stomach that she waved them off from the pavement outside the block of student housing.

The block of flats was situated close to a metro station, which made life a lot easier, and though Marinette hadn’t signed up to all her modules yet, most of the university buildings were within walking distance. All in all, she’d been pretty lucky to score a room here. It was subsidised accommodation, so her costs were very manageable, and it was also minutes away from a Carrefour. In fact, there was only one drawback.

She was sharing the flat with three complete strangers.

It was stupid to worry about it, Marinette told herself as she climbed the three flights of stairs to flat 3B – “Well, at least you’ll get a workout every day!” had been her mother’s bright observation – stupid to be scared about meeting new people when that was kind of the whole _point_ of university. (Well, that and getting a degree, but she would cross that bridge when she got to it.) She was sure her flatmates would be lovely, kind people, and even if they weren’t, so what? She wouldn’t have to see them _that_ often, right?

She unlocked the door, the flutter in her stomach metamorphosing into a flock of butterflies. This morning, when she and her parents had arrived to drop off her stuff, the flat had been empty so she hadn’t had to deal with any awkward introductions – much to the disappointment of Sabine, who had probably been hoping to vet Marinette’s new housemates. The flat itself was decent: tiny but utilitarian, with nice views over the little park nearby from the kitchen window and Marinette’s room. She even had a tiny balcony, though she wasn’t 100% convinced it was loadbearing, and she shared an ensuite bathroom with whoever was going to be in the room next to hers. She sincerely hoped it was going to be a girl – even if there were locks on both doors from inside the bathroom, knowing her luck, it’d only take a week for her to forget to lock it and have her flatmate accidentally barge in on her shaving her legs in the shower.

 _Okay,_ Marinette told herself, _just head through the kitchen and go into your room. It might still be empty, but even if it’s not, you can just say a quick hello and start unpacking. No big deal. You can do this._

She was nineteen years old, for goodness’ sake. She could handle meeting a couple of strangers.

She pushed open the heavy door, noting that the lock was stiff and seemed liable to jam at any minute, took a deep breath, and walked in.

“Hey!” said the _drop-dead-gorgeous model_ standing in her kitchen, giving her a friendly wave.

Marinette shrieked and dropped her keys.

*

“I am _so_ sorry!” said the boy, darting forwards to pick up Marinette’s keys just as she bent down to reach them. They bumped heads, and Marinette stumbled backwards, seeing stars.

 _This is not happening. Not. Happening._ She could feel that her cheeks were flaming red.

“Sorry!” they both yelped at the same time, and then the boy gave her a sheepish smile and handed her the keys, which he’d beaten her to.

“Um, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, his hand creeping to the back of his neck. “I – I’m moving in here, in case that wasn’t clear. Nice to meet you! I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Marinette blurted out, and then felt her forehead go just as crimson as her cheeks. _WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT? WHY?!?_

Adrien Agreste, model and _son of Gabriel Agreste, genius fashion designer_ , looked slightly crestfallen. “Ah,” he said. “I should’ve guessed that would happen.” He gave her another smile, dazzling this time, and Marinette could have sworn she actually _felt_ her stomach flip right over.

 _Holy crap,_ she thought, dazed, _he’s actually prettier than he is in the magazines. I didn’t think that was possible._

It was a face she’d seen hundreds of times – a face she’d even, truth be told, had pinned up around her bedroom mirror for a while during her early teens. Adrien had blonde hair that was cut shorter than she remembered, though long enough at the front to curl up slightly in a way that managed to look both effortless and perfectly styled. His green eyes were disarmingly wide and friendly – shouldn’t someone who was this famous be arrogant and aloof or something? – and he had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen. He also had a jawline that made Marinette understand why people used the world ‘chiselled’ and cheekbones to die for – oh, and he was about six feet tall, if not more. Was the universe actually trying to kill her?

“Sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean – I mean – I didn’t – I just wasn’t expecting—”

“Uh, yeah,” said Adrien, somehow managing to look embarrassed but still as though he was actually on set for a photoshoot. “Kind of weird, right? But I promise I’m pretty normal, even though I’m, uh…” _Famous internationally??_ “…you know. At least, I think I am. I’ve been homeschooled up till now, so I don’t have much of a frame of comparison.” He smiled again, hopefully this time. “So do you mind if we sort of start again? Just pretend that you don’t know who I am and get to know me as your flatmate?”

_Flatmate. Adrien Agreste is my flatmate. Right. Holy SHIT._

“Sure,” Marinette squeaked.

He stuck a hand out, and she stared at it blankly, completely unable to process what was happening. Adrien looked awkward. As she was beginning to realise was the norm for him, he still looked drop-dead gorgeous at the same time.

“Is shaking hands not a thing normal people do? Shit. I knew I’d mess up. Pretend I didn’t do that.”

It was at that precise moment that Marinette fell in love with him.

She’d been veering towards it from the moment she’d opened the door, really, but this was the definitive point – the moment when her brain just went _yep, this is who we’re going to pine over forever from now on_. Staring into those open green eyes, she was pretty sure she could actually _feel_ her bones turning to mush.

“No, no,” she gabbled. “Shaking hands is totally cool. We do it all the time. Normal people, I mean, which is what I am – a normal person, totally. Yep! Nice to meet you, Adrien Ag— I mean, Adrien! So cool that we’re going to be flatmates! Totally!” She grabbed the hand he was in the process of withdrawing and shook it, trying not to think about how warm and strong his hand was. Was her whole body going up in flames? Probably. He was looking bemused. Why wouldn’t the kitchen floor just open up and swallow her right now? “Anyway, gotta go and start unpacking. You know how it is, hahahahaha! Okay bye!”

She marched towards the corridor, planning what inscription she wanted on her tombstone. _Here lies Marinette Dupain-Cheng, killed by a mere glance from the most beautiful boy in the world._ That sounded about right.

“Hey,” Adrien called after her, and she stopped and turned, hoping against hope that somehow he thought ‘blushing so brightly my whole head is glowing’ was an attractive look. “You didn’t mention your name.”

“Oh, right.” _You idiot!_ “Um, it’s Marinette.”

“Marinette. That’s such a pretty name! Nice to meet you, too.” Adrien gave her one last smile, and her heart tried to explode out of her chest.

This time she didn’t manage anything more than a squeak and a nod before she fled.

*

“Girl,” said a feminine voice from Marinette’s doorway, “you have _way_ too much stuff.”

Marinette straightened up from the box she was emptying of design notebooks, turning to see a strange girl leaning against her doorframe with total ease.

“Er… hi?”

“Hey!” was the cheerful reply. “I’m Alya. We’re gonna be sharing a bathroom. Do you have a frying pan I can borrow? I forgot mine, and I have a _serious_ craving for crepes right now.”

Ten minutes later, Alya and Marinette were stuffing their faces with crepes and trading stories about their families. Alya, it transpired, was Martinican Creole-French. She had three sisters, much to Marinette’s envy, though Alya informed her that having siblings was ‘ _way_ overrated’, and was taking a professional journalism MA.

“Gonna take over the world,” she explained casually. “One ground-breaking article at a time.”

Marinette glanced at her new friend. Alya was gorgeous, though not in a classical, model-esque way like Adrien; she had the kind of generous curves Marinette had wished for all her life, all hips and bust and exuberantly wavy hair. More than that, though, she seemed comfortable – confident, even – in her skin in a way that Marinette never had. She had absolutely no doubt that this outgoing, enthusiastic girl would achieve anything she set her mind to.

“Have you met our other flatmates?” Alya asked, rolling a crepe into a tiny ball and forcing the whole thing into her mouth. “Nuvvut n’ike?”

“What?”

She swallowed. “Know what they’re like?”

A traitorous blush started to creep up the back of Marinette’s neck; she could feel it trying to take over her face. “Uh, yeah, I bumped into one of them in here earlier – he must be in his room. He’s…” She trailed off, trying to think how to describe him without using the words ‘angel’ or ‘perfect’.

Adrien chose that moment to make an appearance, strolling into the kitchen in his jeans and shirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves, presumably to unpack, and Marinette started mentally composing a sonnet to his forearms before shaking herself out of it. She watched as Alya took him in, eyes widening.

“Oh, hi! I’m Adrien,” he explained to her. “Nice to meet you!”

Alya, who was clearly a normal person capable of making normal small talk, introduced herself with perfect composure. Marinette stamped down a flicker of irrational jealousy. The second Adrien turned away to get a glass from a cupboard, however, Alya turned to her, eyes huge.

 _“Holy shit_ ,” she mouthed.

“I know!” Marinette hissed.

“Those crepes smell amazing,” Adrien said wistfully as he filled his glass from the tap.

“They are,” Alya told him. “Marinette grew up in a bakery, so I’m officially going to gain three stone this year.”

“Cool!” He seemed to genuinely think it was. Marinette wondered if it was normal to swoon over a one-syllable word.

“Do you – would you – eat?” she said. _Great! 10/10. He probably wants to marry you now, that was so smooth._

_FUCK._

Luckily Alya came to her rescue, looking amused. “Yeah, come and join us! There’s tons more batter.”

Adrien shook his head, though he was staring at the crepes as if they were an oasis in the desert and he was dying of thirst. “I really shouldn’t. I’m supposed to watch what I eat. If I gain even an ounce more than I’m supposed to, I get into trouble.”

“All the more reason to eat up!” declared Alya. “Grab a fork.”

He reached for one hesitantly. “Seriously, my father would kill me. I—”

“Adrien?” Alya interrupted. He jumped slightly, Marinette noticed, as if he’d been caught red-handed doing something terrible. Her swooning melted into something slightly less vapid as she wondered why he’d have such a strong reaction to something so innocuous.

“Yeah?”

“Now you’re at university, _he won’t know_.”

The girls could practically see the cogs whirring in his head. “He won’t know…” Adrien said slowly. “…Huh.”

There was a pause.

Adrien pulled a chair out from the table with a loud scraping sound, threw himself into it, and grabbed a plate. He slathered it with the Nutella Alya had provided – Marinette, being a purist, preferred lemon and sugar – and proceeded to eat it in about two mouthfuls. Then he had another. And another.

And another.

“Theshe are AMASHING,” he informed his flatmates. “Are there any more?”

Alya, with a raised eyebrow to Marinette, got up to heat up the frying pan again.

*

3B’s fourth and final occupant turned up towards the end of the afternoon, when the crepes had all been finished and some level of unpacking had been achieved. Marinette and Alya were at the kitchen table, having an undeserved coffee break and continuing to bond over their shared love of Disney movies, when the door opened and a tall, dark-skinned boy strolled in. He wore a cap and glasses, beneath which were large amber eyes that beamed at the girls.

“Yo! I take it that you’re my housemates?”

“That’s us!” said Alya happily, lifting her coffee cup to him.

“Hi!” said Marinette with a shy smile. “Welcome to flat 3B.”

His name was Nino and he was taking film studies and some music modules on the side. He seemed very easy-going and open, and it felt natural to talk to him as though Marinette had known him for years. Adrien came to hear what the commotion was about and introduced himself as well, and they all sat chatting for a while. Marinette had a sense of things settling into place, of boundaries and roles being established, that was strange and nice at the same time. Alya was clearly the Mum Friend™, a mixture of bossy and caring that Marinette instantly liked and felt at ease with. Nino was laid-back and funny, the kind of person who is invaluable in a group setting, but also good company on his own. And Adrien… Adrien was…

 _Perfect_ , sighed a voice in the back of her head. She shushed it. Yes, perfect, but also shy, kind, polite and sweet. He was attentive to everything the others said, only rarely making a contribution to the conversation, and somehow Marinette felt that he had yet to figure out who he was himself. She could relate to that.

Eventually they reluctantly agreed that they should all separate to continue the unpacking process, which kept them occupied for the next few hours. Alya got bored after a while and wandered into Marinette’s room, which was beginning to look less like a tornado had hit it.

“Hey, do you mind if I shave my legs at you? It’s weird being in my own room. I’ve shared one with my older sister for years.”

Marinette, slightly taken aback but strangely flattered, said “Sure!” and cleared space on the bed. Alya was in checked pj shorts and a vest top that said ‘Foxy lady’ on them. She didn’t seem bothered that she was showing a considerable amount of skin to what was essentially a stranger, but then again if Marinette looked like her she probably wouldn’t be bothered either. She plonked herself on the bed and whipped out a razor and some moisturiser, carefully shaving both legs up to the knee while Marinette finished putting up some posters.

“How you feeling about leaving home?” Alya asked, looking critically at the back of her ankle.

Marinette gulped. She’d been trying not to think about it too hard, but it was definitely beginning to hit her. As cosy as this room was becoming, overly full of her belongings, it didn’t smell like home. It was weird to think that her parents weren’t simply in the other room – that she was totally responsible for things like cooking and shopping and general life from now on. She’d been so desperate to move out in the last couple of months, frustrated by even the fairly relaxed rules her parents insisted upon, but now that the moment was actually here, she felt… strange.

“Uhh…”

“Me too,” said Alya simply, and she looked up with a grin. “It’s nice to have someone here I feel comfortable with.”

A warm feeling enveloped Marinette. She smiled back. “Same here.”

“Want to eat pasta and watch _The Princess and the Frog_ tonight so we don’t sit and think about how weird it is to be adults?”

Marinette’s smile widened. “That sounds perfect.”

*

Later that night, Marinette lay in bed with the duvet pulled right up to her chin and listened to her parents’ familiar voices on the phone. It was so wonderful to hear them, but she didn’t feel as homesick as she had expected.

“So, what do you think of your new housemates?” asked her mother. “Do you think you’ll get along with them?”

Marinette smiled. “Yeah. I think I got pretty lucky, actually. I'm looking forward to being part of flat 3B.”


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, Miraculers! Hope 2020 is a good one for you! :) <3

_Tuesday, 21:39_

_Nino created the group_

_Nino changed the chat name to ‘3B’_

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Hi guys! Thought it might be useful to have a group chat :)

_Alya Césaire:_ Yess!

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ Hi everyone :)

_Adrien Agreste:_ This is exciting! I’ve never been in a group chat before!

_Adrien Agreste:_ I always see memes online about ‘the group chat’ and I never understood them.

_Alya Césaire:_ Oh, my sweet summer child.

_Wednesday, 09:24_

_Alya Césaire:_ Whose milk is the big one? Do you mind if I borrow some for coffee?

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ It’s mine, and go for it!

_Alya Césaire:_ You’re a babe :*

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Anyone going to check out the freshers fair stuff?

_Adrien Agreste:_ Yes, I was thinking about it! And I think we need to go and get our student ID cards sorted?

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ I think that’s open this afternoon?

_Alya Césaire:_ Sweet, lets go together

_Nino Lahiffe:_ I’m down for that

_Alya Césaire:_ 3B field trip!

_Alya Césaire:_ First of many, I’m sure :D

_13:09_

_Alya Césaire:_ Hey lads, me and Mari are ready to go when you are

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Be there in a sec

_Adrien Agreste:_ Me too.

_Adrien Agreste:_ I’m just figuring out what to wear.

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Dude…

_Adrien Agreste:_ I know it sounds stupid, but I get recognised a lot, and I really don’t want to have to deal with publicity right now…

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Aw man, I didn’t even think of that

_Adrien Agreste:_ I kind of just want the normal university experience, you know?

_Alya Césaire:_ Totally get it, Adrien. Maybe just wear a cap and some non-designer clothes?

_Adrien Agreste:_ Non-designer?

_Alya Césaire:_ …

_Alya Césaire:_ Never mind.

_Nino Lahiffe:_ SUNGLASSES!

_Nino Lahiffe:_ B-)

_Alya Césaire:_ GENIUS

_Adrien Agreste:_ Yes! Thanks! Be there in a minute.

_15:32_

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ We’re by the baking society stall!

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Cool thanks

_Thursday, 13:42_

_Nino Lahiffe:_ I can’t remember the door code!!!!!

_Nino Lahiffe:_ I’ve been out here for like 4 hours someone pls check their phone

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ Oh no! It’s 6912

_Nino Lahiffe:_ THANK U

_Alya Césaire:_ No way were you out there for four hours

_Nino Lahiffe:_ It FELT like it

_Friday, 10:25_

_Alya Césaire:_ hey y’all, going to carrefour to get some groceries if anyone wants to join

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ Yes! I owe you for eggs anyway, will come get some

_Nino Lahiffe:_ I’m ok for a few days but I think Adrien needs to go

_Adrien Agreste:_ What? Why?

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Dude, no offence, but you’ve been eating out or having takeaways for every single meal

_Nino Lahiffe:_ You haven’t even eaten breakfast in the flat

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Your cupboard literally has some protein shake powder in it and nothing else

_Adrien Agreste:_ Is that bad?

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ Well… it’s not the most sustainable of habits

_Alya Césaire:_ Lol, Nino you sound like my dad

_Alya changed Nino’s name to ‘Dad’_

_Dad:_ I wear my badge with pride

_Dad:_ I just worry you don’t know how to cook, dude

_Adrien Agreste:_ That’s a fair concern.

_Adrien Agreste:_ Honestly, I’m just used to the cooks making me whatever my nutritionist recommended. :/

_Adrien Agreste:_ I boiled an egg once, I think?

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng:_ Don’t worry, Adrien, we can teach you how to cook etc! It’s not that complicated and you don’t even need to cook that much. You’ll just save so much money and time if you keep some simple groceries in the flat, and it’s probably healthier too!

_Adrien Agreste:_ Thanks, guys! I really appreciate it.

_Adrien Agreste:_ Uh, I have no idea what to buy.

_Alya Césaire:_ Chill. We’ll teach you.

_Dad:_ My little boy’s growing up. *sob*

_Alya Césaire:_ Hurry up, grandpa.


	3. 3

“Woah,” breathed Adrien as they stepped through the supermarket door.

As one, his new flatmates turned to look at him, identical flat stares on their faces.

“What?” he demanded, flushing. “It’s huge!”

“Adrien,” Alya said, “you have _been_ in a supermarket before, right?”

“Uhh…” He could feel sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. For the thousandth time, he cursed his father’s insistence on homeschooling him until he was eighteen. “I’ve been in a _tabac_ , obviously. And in sandwich shops and stuff. Just not… I’ve never had to buy groceries.”

“Oh my God,” breathed Alya, “we’re taking Adrien’s supermarket virginity.”

Marinette made a noise that was halfway through a choke and a squeak and went bright red, Nino cracked up, and Adrien laughed sheepishly. “Guess so!”

“Okay, this is going to be fun. We’re gonna start with the basics, ‘kay?” Alya ticked things off her fingers. “Bread, cheese, eggs, pasta or rice, and fresh fruit and veg. Maybe some potatoes. Then some canned soup and pasta sauce, and you’ll be all set.”

Adrien had never known that it was possible to have fun doing something like grocery shopping, which had always seemed like a boring, pedestrian thing to have to do, but apparently it was. He didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed an outing more as Alya and Nino dragged him round the shop and Marinette interjected with gentle, helpful remarks every now and then. He had to fight for the death for the right to buy what Alya deemed to be ‘junk’, but he’d never even _seen_ a bag of crisps as big as his whole torso, and the fact that he could just buy a slab of chocolate and not endure Nathalie’s icy disapproval was dangerously tempting.

When they’d been down nearly all the aisles, he glanced at his watch and realised to his surprise that they’d been out for nearly two hours. It hadn’t felt nearly that long. His trolley was piled high with what looked like enough food to feed an army for a week, and he felt… strange. It took him a while to pinpoint what was different, but it took him aback when he finally realised what it was. He was relaxed.

Ever since his mother had left, over a year ago now, outings had been stressful, even terrifying events. Adrien’s room had been his safe haven, a space away from nosy reporters and painful questions. Even his regular fencing lessons had become a source of anxiety, to the point that it had been second nature to tense his shoulders and clench his fists whenever he was uncomfortable. This was the first time in months that he just felt fine. Normal. Happy, even.

 _This is what it’s like to have friends,_ Adrien marvelled.

He glanced at his flatmates. Alya and Nino were arguing ferociously over the relative merits of apple and pear cider, much to the danger of the bottles of alcohol on the shelf before them – Alya apparently had a habit of using her hands a lot when she was passionate about something. Marinette had disappeared to do some of her own grocery shopping. He was just craning his head down the aisle to look for her when she appeared at his elbow, seemingly out of nowhere, making him jump.

“Um, Adrien?” she said timidly, her cheeks flushing. She seemed like the kind of person who blushed a lot. “Would you mind helping me a minute?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

Marinette’s cheeks reddened even further. Adrien found himself thinking that it was pretty cute. “Um… I can’t reach the top shelf,” she confessed.

 _Oh my God, that’s even cuter._ Adrien bit back a laugh, not wanting her to think he was mocking her. He hadn’t clocked quite how short she was, but when he followed her to the laundry detergent she wanted, he noted with amusement that it was out of her reach by at least half a foot. It didn’t help that, since this particular brand was on offer, there were only two bottles left and they’d been pushed right to the back of the top shelf. He felt bad for Marinette, but also strangely gratified that she’d come to him for help.

He was alarmed to find that it was almost out of _his_ reach when he tried, which at his six foot three didn’t happen often. By this point, however, he would rather have died than given up, so he made an effort and just about managed to hook the bottle forward.

“Thank you!” Marinette said joyfully, clutching it to her chest and looking up at him with shining eyes. “I was considering climbing the shelves!”

“No problem,” he said cheerfully, feeling rather proud of himself.

“Excuse me,” someone said to his right, “but I don’t suppose you’d be my knight in shining armour, too? I was hoping for that brand as well!”

Adrien turned to see an elderly Asian man who was even shorter than Marinette, though that was partly due to how bent his back was, his weight supported on a cane.

“Of course!” Adrien exclaimed. “I’ll be anyone’s knight in shining armour, as long as it’s only laundry shelves I’m battling.” They all laughed, and he managed to get down the last bottle without making a fool of himself, handing it to the man with a flourish.

They found Nino and Alya at the checkout and paid for all the shopping without incident, though there was a slight hiccup when they remembered that they now had to carry all the groceries home. Luckily Marinette had a seemingly endless supply of canvas bags, all printed with the same flower design, which made it easier to divide things up into manageable loads. Still, the walk back felt much longer than it had on the way there, and Adrien’s shoulders were aching considerably by the time their building came into view.

“Did you make these bags?” he asked Marinette, who was tottering beside him under the weight of several bottles of Coke.

“Um, yes, actually!” she confessed, looking surprised. “How did you guess?”

“I guess I have an eye for this kind of stuff?” He hadn’t realised that was unusual. “The design looks hand-drawn, but in a good way.”

“Oh.” She was blushing again, but that could have been the heavy shopping. “Yeah, it’s kind of like, my signature pattern? I include either it or my actual signature in everything I make.”

“So you’re a fashion designer?” Adrien asked casually, trying to hide his surprise. She hadn’t mentioned it before, which seemed weird. Most people who were aspiring fashion designers or models would make a point of bringing it up the second they met him, presumably hoping that he’d be able to get them a direct meeting with Gabriel Agreste or at least some sort of inside knowledge that would help fast-track their rise in the fashion industry. He never mentioned that he found it hard enough to organise a meeting with his father for himself, let alone anyone else.

“I suppose so,” she said shyly. “Or at least I want to be. I love making my own clothes and accessories. Actually, Gabriel is one of my favourite brands. It’s… how I recognised you.” She peeked up at him, sheepish. “I didn’t want to say anything in case you felt uncomfortable or like I was asking you for a favour. Sorry.”

 _Wow._ He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to thank her for respecting his space and getting to know him as a person, but also reassure her that she was very different from the other girls who tried to flatter him into giving away company secrets or pretend to be his friend. Before he could open his mouth to unlock any of that, Nino ran past them, panting.

“My arms are about to drop off,” he exclaimed, diving for the building door. “C’mon, guys – what’s the code? I’ve forgotten again.”

“You _always_ forget,” complained Alya, coming up behind him and rolling her eyes. “6912. Hurry up!”

Dropping a bag, Nino opened the heavy door and held it in place – it had a tendency to slam shut – while Alya lugged her groceries and the bag he’d set down inside. Adrien was about to follow when he heard a cry from across the road, and without thinking, he shoved his shopping into Nino’s unsuspecting arms and ran towards the sound.

The source of the commotion was the same old man Adrien had helped in Carrefour. He’d apparently been crossing the road with his own groceries when his cane had somehow failed him, and he was sprawled on the tarmac, shopping – including the laundry bottle ‘Sir Adrien’ had saved – scattered around him.

Terrified that a car would come and run the man over, Adrien rushed to help him up, taking one of his arms. Someone else took the other, and he looked up to see that it was Marinette, who had obviously dropped her own bags and dashed over when she’d seen what was happening. He grinned up at her, and together they helped the old man across the road to safety before heading back to pick up his things. Fortunately, no cars did come, and nothing had broken in the fall.

“Thank you!” panted the man, who seemed equally unharmed by the whole incident. “One of these days I’ll trip and fall into the Seine – these old feet of mine are so clumsy these days.” He gave his rescuers a bright, enthusiastic smile, his eyes surprisingly shrewd. Adrien suddenly had the uncomfortable notion that he could see right _into_ them – but that was silly. “You two work very well as a team!”

“It was nothing, _monsieur!_ I’m just glad we were able to help,” Marinette assured him. “Are you okay to get home on your own?”

“Yes, yes,” the man said, waving as if to refuse any further assistance. “I’ll be just fine. Thanks again, my heroes!”

“ _Au revoir!”_ said Adrien politely, before remembering poor Nino, still stuck as a doorstop. He raced back to the door just as Nino’s arms gave out and caught the bags before they hit the floor.

“Dude,” Nino said with deep emotion, “next time you’re going to do that, _warn_ me. I think I pulled like ten muscles in my back.”

* * *

Outside the block of flats, the elderly man stood alone, looking up at the windows of flat 3B.

“What do you think, Wayzz?” he said quietly.

A small green creature with yellow eyes peeped cautiously out of his jacket. “I think they’re quite young,” he said.

Wang Fu sighed. “I know,” he admitted, “but these days the burdens of the Miraculous must be borne by younger shoulders than mine. And at least neither of them have family responsibilities to prevent them from fulfilling their duties.”

“That’s true,” Wayzz acknowledged. “I can see why you have chosen them, Master.”

“A desire to protect the vulnerable and those in need is the most important part of becoming a Miraculous holder,” Fu said. “And they worked remarkably well as a pair. That is crucial for the yin and yang of the Black Cat and Ladybug.”

“Indeed.”

They pondered for a little longer, and then Master Fu seemed to come to a decision. He nodded firmly. “It is done. Bring them the boxes.”

“Yes, Master.” Wayzz tucked a little black box under each of his tiny arms and whizzed up to the flat, disappearing through the windows as if they were made of smoke.

Master Fu smiled to himself, recalling the flush on the girl’s cheeks and the proud stance of the boy when he’d accomplished a task for her.

 _You’re a nosy, meddlesome old man,_ he accused himself, _and you’re far too old to be matchmaking._

But maybe… just maybe… the Miraculous would be just as much of a blessing as a curse to these two young people.

He hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always bugged me how young Adrien and Marinette are in canon. I know it's a kid's show and they wanted to appeal to a specific audience, but realistically, the burden of being Ladybug and Chat Noir is WAY too heavy for a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo
> 
> I'd say I'm posting an update because the lockdown is making me creative, but I actually have LESS time to write at the moment. I had this very short chapter written already and wanted to share! Hoping all my readers are okay <3

_[Private chat between Adrien Agreste and Nino Lahiffe]_

_Wednesday, 08:50_

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Yo dude, ok for me to shower?

_Adrien Agreste:_ Yeah, sure!

_Thursday, 19:23_

_Adrien Agreste:_ Hey Nino, I was thinking of ordering some Chinese.

_Adrien Agreste:_ Want anything?

_Nino Lahiffe:_ HELL YES

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Hold on a sec, I’ll come and pick something

_Friday, 10:02_

_Adrien Agreste:_ Ok to shower?

_Nino Lahiffe:_ :thumbs-up:

_14:00_

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Dude u ok?!

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Did u just knock over a chair or something?

_14:09_

_Adrien Agreste:_ Sorry!!! Yes I’m fine, thanks.

_Adrien Agreste:_ Just tripped.

_Nino Lahiffe:_ Phew, was wondering if I should break down the door…

_Adrien Agreste:_ My saviour

_Nino Lahiffe:_ You can call me ‘milord’

_Adrien changed Nino’s name to ‘Milord’_

_Milord:_ Are u on the phone? I swear I keep hearing another voice in there

_Adrien Agreste:_ No, just have the TV on really loudly. Sorry! I’ll turn it down

_Milord:_ No probs


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the middle of the night. I have seven books to edit and three more to tie off. So what am I doing?
> 
> I'm writing fanfiction for a children's show.
> 
> *Groan*

_“Change is on its way, embrace it and you’ll see,”_ Jagged Stone rasped from Marinette’s Bluetooth speaker. _“You’re not meant for normal. You have a destiny…”_

 _His lyrics have improved since this album,_ Marinette thought idly as she carefully coloured the block she’d marked ‘Drawing I’ in red pencil. Her timetable had come through to her email this morning so she was making up a copy of it for her notebook, which functioned as diary, sketchpad and calendar. The timetable was pretty good, all things considered; she had all of Wednesday afternoon off and 9am lectures only on a Tuesday and Thursday, which wasn’t too bad at all. She was looking forward to starting lectures, actually. Some of the modules she’d signed up for in the previous week sounded really interesting.

Finishing all the Drawing I slots, she reached across her desk for a blue pencil (‘Introduction to Digital Media I’), and in the process somehow managed to knock her satchel off the end of it. It fell to the ground with a surprisingly loud clatter, and something small and dark rolled out of it and disappeared under the desk.

Cursing mildly to herself, Marinette slipped off her wheely chair, which had seen better days, and knelt on the carpet, which had presumably seen better days but didn’t appear to remember them. What had that thing been? Her purse? She craned her neck and flailed her arm around at full length until her fingers met something small. Pulling it out and wrinkling her nose at the dust it had suddenly accumulated, she examined the object.

_What the heck?_

It wasn’t hers. She’d never seen this box in her life before: hexagonal, black, with a complicated geometric design engraved into the lid in red. She had a moment of irrational panic.

_Did I somehow steal this and then forget??_

No, that was ridiculous. Maybe it had fallen into her bag, or someone had somehow put it into her bag by accident, or… She couldn’t think of any other explanations. How bizarre. Not sure what else to do, she looked at the box more closely, noting the beauty of the design – she could definitely incorporate that into some awesome outfits – and the hinges that showed the lid flipped open, like a jewellery box. Curious, and rationalising that she should at least know what it was in order to figure out what to do next, she opened it.

She had only a second or two to see a simple pair of earrings before an orb of light seemed to burst from them and into mid-air, coalescing into the small shape of… a _creature?_

Marinette shrieked and flung herself backwards, instinctively throwing the box at the _thing_ and colliding painfully with her wheely chair, which in turn crashed into her bed.

“What the hell?!” she half screamed, half demanded, staring at the small, red, big-headed bug… raccoon… cat… gnome… _thingy_ that was just hanging in the air before her. _Did that thing just appear out of nothing? Am I going mad? I didn’t think this would happen until exam time!_

A bang on the door startled her again. “Marinette?” came Alya’s voice. “You okay?”

The door handle started turning. Wide-eyed, Marinette turned back to the bug-thing, which shook its head frantically, put a… paw? to its lips – well, mouth – and then… disappeared. Not in the same way it had appeared, as a ball of light; it flew _into_ Marinette’s satchel, diving through the leather as though it was non-existent.

_WHAT._

“Marinette?” said Alya again, now poking her head round the door. “What happened?”

Flustered, and not particularly wanting Alya to think she’d gone crazy, Marinette grasped for an explanation. “It was a… spider! A really big one!”

Alya shuddered. “Aaand I’m noping right out of here. Want me to perpetuate disappointingly accurate stereotypes and get one of the boys?”

“Nooo!” said Marinette frantically, picturing Adrien seeing the inside of her room. There was a pair of _knickers_ on the end of her bed, for goodness’ sake! Clean, and in a pile of washing, but still! “It ran under the desk and I can’t see it now. Hopefully it’s gone for good.”

Alya pulled a face. “Girl. I do not envy you sleeping in this room tonight. I hope it doesn’t get into your bed or anything.”

“Thanks for that,” Marinette said dryly.

“Okay, gotta go get my laundry. See ya!”

When the door closed, Marinette got up and, in spite of herself, checked under her pillow. It would be just her luck for a spider to _actually_ turn up in her bed. Fortunately, there was nothing there.

“Thank you for not saying anything,” chimed a tiny, feminine voice from behind her.

This time Marinette managed to stop the squeal from escaping her mouth, but she did jump. “Stop doing that!”

“I’m sorry,” squeaked the little creature. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Trying to calm her breathing, Marinette sat down on the bed. “It’s okay,” she said cautiously, taking her unexpected visitor in.

Whatever it, or she, was – and it really wasn’t clear – was quite endearing, on the whole. She was crimson all over – her skin appeared smooth, not furry – and had large blue eyes in an enormous head. She would have fitted comfortably into Marinette’s palm and had no wings, though she was definitely hovering in mid-air. She also had some black spots on her head and little antennae. A… ladybug? Marinette had desperately wanted to believe in fairies when she was younger, but if this was what they looked like, the stories had _really_ got it wrong.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” Marinette went on when the sort-of-ladybug didn’t say anything else, “but what _are_ you?”

“I’m a kwami,” she said, as if that somehow explained everything. “My name is Tikki. I’m very pleased to meet you!”

She did a little bow. Unnervingly big head for her size or not, she really was cute, in an ‘I’m-probably-insane’ sort of way.

“Uh, hi, Tikki. I’m Marinette.”

“Marinette!” Tikki positively beamed. “What a lovely name!”

“Thanks…? I’m sorry, but I don’t know what a kwami is. How, um… what…” She trailed off, unsure of what she really wanted to say. _How were you in that box? What in Gabriel Agreste’s impeccable designer wardrobe is going on?!_

“Oh, right,” said Tikki, as if she had been reminded of something. “We have a lot to talk about.” She glanced around the room. “Do you have any cookies?”

*

Marinette felt like her head was spinning. She took a deep breath and, on an afterthought, a bite of cookie. It was lucky that she and Alya had had a baking spree only yesterday and made way too many. Apparently getting rid of leftover baked goods wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

“So…” she said slowly. “Let me get this straight. This is a pair of magical earrings?”

Tikki, munching on her third cookie, nodded solemnly.

“Called a… ‘miraculous’.”

Nod.

“The miraculous of the ladybug, to be precise. Because all of the miraculous items have animals associated with them.”

Nod.

“And the ladybug earrings are a big deal?”

Nod.

“Because they give m— they give their wearer magical powers?”

Tikki swallowed her mouthful. “The Ladybug Miraculous bestows the power of creation to its wielder. When transformed, you will be able to summon an item at a crucial moment that will allow you to solve a puzzle or win a fight – whatever is most necessary. You can also heal any injury or damage that occurs. All Miraculous are magical and have unique abilities, but none have the power to conjure something from nothing. The Ladybug earrings are especially powerful and important for this reason.”

“Right.” It felt _really_ weird to be talking about magic as though it was a given – just an ordinary, mundane occurrence. Creating something from nothing… totally normal. Then again, she _was_ talking to a kwami which apparently was the embodiment of creation. Okay. “But it works best in a pair?”

Tikki nodded yet again. “Uniquely among the Miraculous, the Ladybug works best with the Black Cat. The others are very effective alone, but the Ladybug and the Black Cat have complementary powers; they are a perfect balance of yin and yang. Creation and destruction. It is for this reason that Plagg and I have been chosen to find wielders once more.”

“Plagg is the kwami of the Black Cat,” Marinette said, trying to commit everything to memory. “And he and whoever he picks are going to be our partners.”

“Yes.”

“And I’ve – _we’ve_ – been chosen because… someone has got a Miraculous and might do something bad with it?”

Tikki looked grim, which was a difficult feat for someone with huge, adorable, baby-blue eyes. “Yes. We all felt it when the Butterfly Miraculous was activated a few days ago, and we can tell that it has been a negative bond. The Miraculous are dangerous in the hands of anybody who wishes to misuse them, but the Butterfly has been lost for years, and it is a powerful jewel in its own right.”

“Because it creates these champion-thingies. What did you call them?”

“Akumas.”

“That’s it. Akumas. People who have been turned into monsters and can be dangerous.”

“It will be your job, along with the Black Cat wielder, to stop them,” said Tikki quietly. “And, if you can, to bring this Butterfly thief to justice.”

Marinette let out a long breath. “Easy.”

“Not at all,” Tikki disagreed, the sarcasm apparently lost on her. “But necessary.”

Marinette got up, agitated. “But why me? Who says I can do this? I’m just a random person—”

“Not true!”

“—You don’t even _know_ and suddenly I’m having all this insane responsibility thrust on me? I’m supposed to start saving people’s lives and playing superhero? Doesn’t it seem a little bit crazy to you?”

“Not _playing_ ,” said Tikki calmly. “You’ll actually be a superhero. I’ll help you.”

“What if I say no?” Marinette demanded.

Tikki blinked, and there was a moment of silence. Marinette started actually feeling guilty, which was entirely ridiculous.

“I mean, I’m about to start university,” she pointed out. “I’ll have a _lot_ on my plate. I’ll have essays and exams and projects and social events. I’m not going to have time to run around after ak— akim— what were they again?”

“Akumas.”

“Yeah, those. Why don’t you find someone who has experience with this kind of stuff?”

“What kind of experience?”

The question threw Marinette off balance. “Um…” _Anyone other than me?_ “I don’t know – a policeman? Someone who’s used to saving people.”

Tikki put her cookie down patiently. “Marinette, you were chosen precisely because of who you are. A superhero must be someone whose responsibilities do not outweigh their duties. If you have to miss a lecture, there are unlikely to be any lasting consequences; someone who has a full-time job can’t say the same. And if they don’t have a job, they’re likely to be caring for someone else – maybe they have children, or they take care of someone elderly or sick. A hero must be able to answer the call whenever they hear it. I know that you will be busy, and I’m not saying it will be easy, but I promise you that we do not ask this of you lightly. People’s _lives_ are likely to be at stake.”

It was a lot to take in, but the kwami had a point. Could Marinette really turn away from something so serious, especially if she had a chance to make a difference? She thought of all the times she’d read about tragedies or natural disasters in the news and how she had always felt so helpless, unable to do anything but stand by and watch. Well, here was an opportunity to actually follow through on that impulse. Was she just going to chicken out? Were those good impulses nothing but talk?

She opened her mouth to tell Tikki that she’d do it, but before she could get the words out, the kwami swooped through the air to hover before her face.

“It’s more than that, though,” she said earnestly. “The Guardian chose you for a reason. The Ladybug Miraculous needs someone who is kind and loving, someone who thinks of others before themselves and who is always willing to lend a hand to anyone in need. I have faith in you, Marinette. You’re the right person.”

Unexpectedly touched, Marinette felt herself blush.

“I don’t know if I can live up to that,” she told Tikki, “but I’ll give it a go.”

“Really?” Tikki squealed. “Yes! That’s wonderful news!” She did a little back-flip to express her joy and then dived for the box, holding it up to Marinette. “Here. You’ll need to put these on and _keep_ them on.”

Marinette eyed the earrings. They were small and plain – a simple black stone set into silver studs. They didn’t exactly look magical, but then again perhaps that was the point. With the slightly uneasy sensation that she was setting something in motion that she would never be able to undo, she picked them up and replaced her current earrings with them.

“Okay,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. “Now what?”

*****

Marinette stared at herself.

The mirror over her sink didn’t offer the best view – she’d had to climb onto her bed to see anything below her shoulders – but it was all she had, and to be honest she was too distracted by the person staring back at her to be annoyed by the poor visibility.

She looked…

Different.

Tikki had explained in exhaustive detail about how she used the Miraculous jewel to transform back into her original form of pure energy to help the wielder become a superhero, but honestly Marinette hadn’t understood much of it once she’d grasped that she’d be wearing a magical suit. She’d been so excited to see it that she’d rushed Tikki through the explanations of her abilities – apparently she had a yoyo too which was magic, though that was all she could remember about it – and used the special phrase she’d been taught to transform into… well, this.

The suit was a strange mixture of a costume, just like the superheroes in the movies, and body armour. Bright red with spots scattered all over, it was textured with a pattern of tiny hexagons and it felt like no material Marinette had ever touched before (and she’d touched a _lot)_. It was incredibly comfortable, and it neither compressed nor wrinkled anywhere. It was also literally skin-tight. You could see _everything._ She twisted awkwardly, and managed to catch a glimpse of her butt covered in tight, bright red and black-spotted spandex. Wow. That was going to take some getting used to.

She was also now wearing a mask. It clung to her face like magic (well… okay, it _was_ magic), following the contours perfectly without the need for any form of attachment. Also red and black-spotted, it made her eyes look much bluer than they usually did, and she kind of liked how it changed her face. Silly, really, considering that it hid so little, but it did make a difference. Her dark hair, which she usually wore down or pinned to the side, had been changed for the transformation; it was now in two little buns on the back of her head, tied with red ribbons. It was a cute look, she decided, but she wasn’t as certain about the suit. It was just so – so _cartoony_.

“Tikki, spots off!” she said aloud, feeling somewhat foolish.

There was a flash of light, and suddenly she was just Marinette again, in her jeans and pink top. Tikki reappeared, beaming.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s amazing!” said Marinette honestly. “I was just wondering if I could make some changes to the suit.”

Tikki cocked her head to the side. “Changes?”

Marinette had already grabbed her sketch pad and was scribbling down some ideas. “Nothing major. Just a little bit of streamlining…”


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, Miraculers? I just moved house and I have MANY, MANY looming deadlines on my editing work, and what feels like 50000 unanswered emails and messages to go through. So this is, obviously, the best time ever for my muse to demand that I work on this.

_[Private chat between Alya Césaire and Nino Lahiffe]_

_Friday, 20:45_  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ Hey, this is the band I was talking about earlier! soundcloud.com/insomnia-at-midday  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ if u want to check them out  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ especially recommend ‘Starshine’ and ‘Wanted’ but they’re all good tbh  
 _Alya Césaire:_ ahh thanks!!! :)  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ no problem :)

 _21:02_  
 _Alya Césaire:_ theyre amazing!!!!!  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ ah yay glad you like them!  
 _Alya Césaire:_ can’t believe a guy with such terrible taste in movies would like such good music  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ not having seen shitty white girl films does not equate to having terrible taste  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ YOU’RE the one with terrible taste  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ u haven’t even seen die hard  
 _Alya Césaire:_ you haven’t seen mean girls!!!!  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ like i said earlier, that’s a good thing  
 _Alya Césaire:_ no it isn’t??????  
 _Alya Césaire:_ so much of our meme culture is BASED on mean girls (2004)  
 _Alya Césaire:_ and fyi I did not need to look up that date  
 _Nino Lahiffe:_ that’s sad  
 _Alya changed Nino’s nickname to ‘boo you whore’_  
 _boo you whore:_ wtf  
 _Alya Césaire:_ lol  
 _Alya Césaire:_ srsly tho you need to watch it, it’s so funny  
 _Alya Césaire:_ I legit have the DVD in my room  
 _boo you whore:_ …  
 _Alya Césaire:_ WANNA COME AND WATCH IT WITH ME  
 _Alya Césaire:_ Marinette’s talking to her parents and she said she’s having an early night so I’m booooooored  
 _Alya Césaire:_ let me torture u with girly movies  
 _Alya Césaire:_ it’s what flatmates are for  
 _boo you whore:_ I can’t believe I’m considering this  
 _Alya Césaire:_ yesssss  
 _boo you whore:_ but if I do, you are so watching die hard after this  
 _Alya Césaire:_ fine, I’ll watch your stupid boy movie with guns and explosions  
 _boo you whore:_ hmmmm  
 _Alya Césaire:_ i have crisps AND some of Marinette’s macarons…  
 _boo you whore:_ you play dirty  
 _boo you whore:_ i’ll be there in a min

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *narrows eyes* DJWifi??! How the heck did YOU get in here?
> 
> (Is that even the right ship name? Idk, I don't keep up with this fandom...)


	7. 7

Adrien ran along the rooftops of Paris, pure exhilaration running through his veins.

This was _insane_. He couldn’t believe it was really happening, but at the same time he felt strangely reluctant to question it. Why should he waste time wondering how and why he had turned into a weird hybrid of superhero and cat when he could be enjoying it?

He leapt to another rooftop with the help of his new baton, a jump he’d never have dreamed of attempting as his usual self, and let out a whoop when he touched down with barely an impact. He’d never in his life experienced anything like this, and he had a funny feeling that nothing else would ever quite match up to it.

The tiny black cat-god thing that had burst out of the ring he’d found on his pillow had seemed slightly taken aback by how quickly Adrien had accepted his story. He – Plagg, his name was – had apparently expected some sort of mental breakdown, or at least initial disbelief. Plagg had clearly not taken into account the fact that Adrien had spent most of his life reading superhero comics, watching superhero movies, and playing superhero games. This might not be the most emotionally fraught origin story, but he’d take it.

He was running through potential names for his new alter ego as he ran, completely forgetting about the partner Plagg had told him to watch out for, when a yell from somewhere to his left caught him off guard and made him lose his balance for one crucial second. Before he really knew what was happening, he’d tripped on the edge of a building.

Clearly about to plummet off the side and end up as kibble, he didn’t even have time to shout before something caught him around the ankle and jerked him to a halt.

Adrien – no, Night Cat – no, that sounded terrible; Catboy? No, definitely not – yelped and panicked, trying to twist around in mid-air and reach for the baton that was attached to his hip. He missed, but the mysterious object had pulled him out of immediate danger; he fell to the building’s roof with a thump that knocked most of the wind out of him. Staring straight up at the pale early evening sky, he mused to himself that the suit must have some kind of magical protection built in. That definitely should’ve hurt a _lot_ more.

It occurred to him that he might be under attack, quite possibly from the akuma monsters Plagg had mentioned to him, but he only managed to lift himself to his elbow before his eyes met those of the figure standing over him.

Adrien’s mouth went dry.

As a model, he had come across no shortage of beautiful women over the past few years. He knew from personal experience just how demoralising it was to be seen as an object, no more than the sum of your body or face, so he had always made an effort to get to know other models as people without letting their attractiveness affect him. He was never tongue-tied in the presence of a gorgeous woman as many boys his age would be, and even having them half-naked and draped over his body was no longer a big deal. In short, Adrien Agreste was not easily flustered.

Sure, he was _human_. He noticed things, just like everyone else did. It hadn’t been lost on him that both his female flatmates were very pretty girls; Alya’s curves were rather easy on the eye, and he had found himself accidentally admiring Marinette’s legs in her short dungarees just the other day – but he’d forcefully reminded himself that these were his _housemates_. He was going to spend all year in the same flat as them; it seemed foolish to let his thoughts wander in any direction that might make it complicated in any way. Besides, Alya, Nino and Marinette were his first proper friends. He would rather die than mess that up.

Still, the effect this girl had on him was completely unexpected.

From his perspective on the ground, she seemed tall and imposing, dazzlingly confident and in control, a hand on her hip and one eyebrow cocked. The magical suit she wore was a mixture of black and red – sleek, curving designs made it look as though a pair of ladybug wings crossed up and over her chest, complete with black spots on the crimson background. It was an eye-catching look, and it matched Adrien’s impression of her: dark hair blowing back off her forehead in the slight breeze and eyes vividly blue against the red-and-black mask, the girl was the most awesome superhero he’d ever seen.

_If this is an akuma, I think I might just let it have me._

The thought came out of nowhere and, somewhat horrified at himself, Adrien struggled to a sitting position.

“I’m so sorry!” said the girl before he could say anything. “I didn’t expect you to react like that. I was just trying to get your attention – you seemed pretty focused.”

Adrien tried not to go red. _Be suave!_ his brain yelled at him. _SUAVE!_

“Guess I just… fell for you,” was what came out of his mouth.

_NOT THAT SUAVE!!!!_

Mentally berating himself for whatever the _hell_ that had been, Adrien cringed slightly as he glanced back up at the girl. To his astonishment and gratification, she didn’t look horrified or move to slap him; she just laughed.

“I take it you’re my new partner?” she said, holding a black-and-red-gloved hand to him.

He stared at it for a second, then grasped it. “That’s me,” he said with what he hoped was a roguish grin as he got to his feet. From his new perspective, she was a lot tinier than he’d expected – the top of her head probably only came up to the middle of his bicep – but no less fierce and determined. “And you are…?”

“Ladybug,” she told him casually.

Adrien’s inner voice, which seemed to have taken a life of its own, heaved a deep sigh. _She’s sooo cool. She already has her superhero name picked out! Quick, you need one now, you idiot._

He wondered briefly whether he was actually hearing Plagg’s voice. Maybe Plagg had made him say the terrible pick-up line, too.

“ _Enchanté_ , Ladybug,” he said aloud, glancing down at the hand she was holding out to him again, this time to shake. Before he could think his actions through properly, he’d picked it up and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss.

There was a moment of total silence, and Adrien froze, panic coursing through his veins.

_You did NOT just do that, oh my God. THIS IS WHY YOU WERE HOMESCHOOLED, YOU UTTER MORON. She’s going to demand a different partner – one who isn’t sleazy and gross! How have you screwed this up before you’ve even started?!_

Holding his breath, Adrien risked a peek up at Ladybug, expecting outrage. It took him a moment to understand that her wide blue eyes and pink cheeks weren’t a sign of fury. The new superhero was… blushing?

_YES!_

Irrational victory swept through him like an adrenaline rush. He suddenly felt that all he would ever want to do from now on was try to make this girl smile and blush, and as long as he succeeded he could die happy.

Ladybug cleared her throat, gently withdrawing her hand. Her words brought him back down to earth.

“And you are…?”

Adrien panicked, mentally reassessing the one swift glimpse he’d caught of himself in a window. He remembered ears, tail, and the colour black. He needed something memorable. Simple, yet mysterious. Cat… Black Cat? Actually, that sounded pretty good.

“Chat Noir at your service, _madame_ ,” he said firmly.

*

“Ok, so I was thinking we should talk strategy,” Ladybug said half an hour later, when they had got bored of testing their new-found abilities and gadgets. Chat Noir had found that his baton obeyed his wishes with barely a second’s delay, able to split into two, lengthen to catch a fall, or even return to him when thrown like a boomerang. Rather than a tool or weapon, it seemed more an extension of his thoughts. He had also spent far more time than was gentlemanly – or appropriate – getting distracted by Ladybug’s very… _flattering_ suit, especially whenever she swung past him on what had turned out to be a magical yo-yo. All in all, it had been a pretty good night.

“Strategy?” he asked, sitting down and swinging his legs over the side of a rooftop – something he’d wanted to do since he was a little boy and had been taken up the Eiffel Tower as a treat.

Ladybug came to join him, sitting just close enough that his heart began to beat slightly faster. He was torn between annoyance at himself for crushing on her so hard about three minutes – make that three seconds – after meeting her, and elation that this beautiful, badass girl was his _superhero partner_. Could he _be_ any luckier?

“Yeah. You know, figure out how we’re going to stop this Butterfly guy. I was thinking we should run patrols at least twice a week, keep an eye on the city, see if we spot anything unusual. Tikki said the wielder probably won’t expect us specifically, but they might be waiting for someone to show up and challenge them. We should try and get the element of surprise, if we can.”

Chat Noir stared at her, aware of a feeling of total inadequacy. “Uhh… yeah, that sounds – that sounds good.” _Butterfly guy?_ He vaguely remembered Plagg mentioning something about a Butterfly jewel. He hadn’t really paid much attention.

“Great! The sooner we can stop him, the sooner we can give back _our_ Miraculous…es?” She paused for a second, her serious expression wavering, then laughed.

His stomach swooped, and not in a good way – even as part of him was noting that her eyes scrunched up in the most adorably unselfconscious way while she laughed.

“Give them back?” he echoed.

Ladybug turned those dazzling blue eyes on him in surprise. “Yes. That’s what our goal is, right? Get the Butterfly jewel back before it can be used to hurt anyone!”

Chat Noir swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of reality on his shoulders. For a few glorious moments, he’d totally forgotten about how it felt to be Adrien Agreste. No cameras, no overbearing father, no giant, empty mansions that always felt too cold. Just him and Ladybug and the stars above. It was stupid, but he’d almost let himself believe that this could be the start of something new – something different.

“Right,” he said, trying not to let the disappointment show in his voice. “That’s a good plan.”

Even the return of a faint blush on Ladybug’s cheek wasn’t enough to make him feel better.

“Thanks!” she said, sounding genuinely pleased. “Now, I think we should have some way of communicating in case either of us spot anything outside of patrols. Can I get your phone number?”

“My phone number?” he repeated stupidly, mortified to feel a flush of his own creeping up his face. “Oh, sure, yeah! Phone number. Makes sense.” Trying to ignore the voice yelling _SHE ASKED FOR YOUR NUMBER!!!_ in his head, he glanced around the rooftop as if he thought he’d find a pen and piece of paper lying around.

“Oh.” She saw the flaw in the plan at the same time as he did. “Hang on. I think I can put it into my yo-yo.”

He watched in awe as she flipped something, or twisted it, on the red yo-yo that hung from her waist and it opened into two halves, one of them now a tiny screen like a smartphone. As she typed the number he recited to her, she screwed her face up in concentration, the tip of her tongue sticking out.

“Got it,” she said. “Do you want mine?”

_Um, YES._

“If you want,” he said, trying to sound casual and cool and not desperate or sad in any way. “What name shall I save it under?”

Ladybug gave him an odd look. “Uh, Ladybug?”

“Oh, yeah, I know, but what’s your real name?” He was fiddling with his baton, trying to figure out whether it had a screen as well – it did – so it took him a minute to realise she wasn’t answering. When he looked up, she was frowning.

“I… don’t think I should tell you my real name,” she said, as if he’d suggested they go for a swim naked in the Seine at midwinter. “Isn’t that, like, superhero 101? You keep your secret identity… you know… secret?”

Chat Noir’s heart sank. She was right, of course, and he was an idiot. But… that meant…

“I just think we should approach this sensibly,” she went on. “The phone numbers are just for emergencies or organising patrols. We probably shouldn’t get to know each other too well, or we risk compromising each other’s identity. In fact, don’t tell me anything about yourself. It’s probably safer that way.”

Staring at the beautiful girl who’d suddenly crash-landed in his life and seemed poised to disappear from it as quickly as she’d appeared, Chat Noir nodded numbly.

_Not so lucky after all, I guess._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien: haha not very emo origin story but I'll take it  
> Me: oh, honey...
> 
> Also, sorry-not-sorry for borrowing humour from _Into the Spider-Verse_... peak comedy deserves recognition


	8. 8

_[Text conversation with: LB]_

**Me:** Hey Lady bug, it’s Chat Noir

**Me:** Just checking you got home safely :)

**Me:** It was awesome meeting you!

**LB:** Hi! Yes I did thanks :)

**LB:** You too!

**Me:** I meant Ladybug!! Phone autocorrected!!!

**LB:** Haha it’s ok!

**LB:** Apparently I’m insect nobility

**Me:** Lol! Does that make me a feline knight?

**Me:** Cos I’m FELINE fine about that

**LB:** *facepalm*

**LB:** Is this my life now? Just a series of terrible puns?

**Me:** Fur real

**LB:** ha

**LB:** anyway, gotta go. Goodnight! :)

**Me:** Goodnight, my lady Bug ;)


	9. 9

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” A tiny, anxious voice dragged Marinette from her blissful sleep.

Groaning and blinking bleary eyes, she rolled over to find herself face to face with a small scarlet kwami. “Tikki? What the heck are you doing?”

“You told me I had to wake you up in time for your first lecture!” Tikki said, eyes huge. “And you turned off your phone alarm IN YOUR SLEEP! I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

“Ughhh,” said Marinette eloquently.

“It’s quarter to eight,” the kwami went on earnestly, “and you said you wanted time to get lost on your way to the lecture hall—”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up.” Marinette rubbed her eyes, trying to pull her brain together into a semblance of wakefulness. The realisation that she was about to walk into a room of total strangers gave her a sudden jolt of anxiety, and on the horrifying thought that she might be late in front of _everyone_ , she jumped out of bed.

The university building she needed to get to was a good twenty-minute walk away, so she had plenty of time to ponder the strangeness of all the firsts she had been confronted with this week on the way. It seemed surreal that she was simultaneously gearing up for her first university lecture and strategising for her new role as superhero. The two things just didn’t line up in her head.

It had only been a few days since Tikki had entered her life, and so far not much had changed. Tikki required a regular supply of baked goods, but not much else, and had turned out to be a genuine source of companionship. Marinette already loved her kind, sweet nature and the way she constantly encouraged Marinette to do and be her best. She thought of her new partner, Chat Noir, who had also seemed like a decent guy, if slightly goofy.

_Easy on the eyes, too_ , her brain commented without warning. Marinette’s eyes widened and she stepped a little faster, cheeks hot. _Not that that makes a single bit of difference to anything!!!_

She was trying to reorganise her thoughts and plan how she was going to explain tonight’s patrol to Alya, who had suggested a film night, when something else completely scattered them.

“Mari!” It was Adrien’s voice.

_Oh no_.

If there was one thing Marinette had learned over the past couple of weeks since moving into flat 3B, it was that she should never, ever be alone with Adrien. If Nino or Alya or both were there, she could just about ignore the devastating effects his wide green eyes had on her whenever they turned in her direction, and was capable of holding up _some_ sort of brain–mouth filter before her scattered thoughts. If they weren’t… Well, the one and only time he’d accidentally cornered her in the kitchen, she’d dropped a spoon on his foot, spilled orange juice all over the counter, and become so hot in the face that she probably could have cooked her lunchtime omelette on it.

It was therefore with grim resignation that she glanced back to see him – tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly handsome in a grey tailored coat – eagerly making his way towards her through the crowd of students.

“Mari!” he repeated as he drew level with her. It was a nickname Nino had coined, and while she liked it when he or Alya used it, it did horrible, unfair things to the pit of her stomach when Adrien said it. She groaned internally, feeling the tell-tale flush already mounting in her cheeks. _Here we go._

“Hey!” she said weakly, lifting her hand in some kind of idiotic wave.

“I’m on my way to my first lecture!” he told her excitedly. “Plasma physics and applications. It’s going to be so cool.”

A little part of Marinette died at the confirmation of something she’d suspected for a while now – that Adrien Agreste was a total geek. Why did he constantly just make this harder for her? Couldn’t he at least do her the courtesy of revealing himself to be careless, or unkind, or arrogant? Maybe he always left the toilet seat up, or didn’t pick up his towel after showering. That would definitely make her feel better. She made a mental note to ask Nino about it.

“I’ve got my first one at nine too,” she said, grateful that she hadn’t managed to accidentally say the word ‘toilet’ aloud. “Which way are you going?”

It turned out that the physics department was situated on the street behind the building she was heading to, which was just _great._ They’d be walking along together for almost ten more minutes. Marvellous. She scrambled for conversation topics that would be unlikely to lead towards her blurting out that she wouldn’t mind having his babies, if he happened to be looking for someone to do it.

She was about to mention the weather, which _probably_ wouldn’t risk it, when he lifted his hand to brush a lock of perfectly golden hair out of his perfectly green eyes and she caught sight of the enormous takeaway cup he was holding.

“What’s _that?”_ she demanded.

“Oh, this?” Adrien regarded his cup. “It’s a white chocolate mocha Frappuccino. Do you want to try it?”

Marinette stared longingly at the horrifying concoction. She could practically hear the horror in her father’s voice. _We are_ French! _We drink real coffee – not the disgusting, sugared, calorie-loaded rubbish the Americans like!_

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I’ve never had a Starbucks.”

Adrien gave her a blinding grin that almost stopped her in her tracks. He was so beautiful, it was just patently unfair. “Hey, guess what?” He leaned in conspiratorially. Something in her brain fizzed and short-circuited. She hoped it wasn’t anything important. “I hadn’t either until today. It’s _amazing_.”

It took her a moment to register that he was holding the cup out to her. Shifting her book satchel to her other shoulder, she took it – making sure not to brush his fingers; a girl could only handle so many heart attacks in a day – and sipped cautiously through the straw. An explosion of sweetness hit her tongue, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, wow. That’s incredible.” _Damn Americans._

“Have some more!” he urged her. “They gave me a bigger cup than I expected.”

She obeyed, partly because the drink really was delicious, and partly because it meant that she didn’t have to think of something else to say for the next few moments. She was acutely aware of him next to her, the energy in his long strides, the tousled hair he’d shoved to one side of his forehead, the way he towered over her. It was also impossible to ignore how many of the girls – and some of the guys – ogled him, either openly or covertly, as he walked by. She wondered if he noticed, or whether it had just become routine to him for people to stare. She wasn’t sure whether it made her feel better or worse. Perhaps he didn’t notice her odd behaviour – or perhaps he was just being kind enough to ignore it.

“Thanks,” she said at last, handing the Frappuccino back to him. “And sorry for intruding on your first Starbucks experience.”

He took it with another dazzling smile. “Not at all! It’s even nicer to be able to share it with a friend.”

_Oh, just kill me right where I stand, why don’t you?_

“If Nathalie could see me now,” he added, eyes dancing with a sudden mischief that reminded her for a second of someone else, though she couldn’t work out who, “she’d have kittens.”

Grasping at any straw that might distract her, Marinette repeated, “Nathalie?”

She immediately noticed how something in his expression, some light that had been shining behind his eyes, dimmed.

“Oh, she was just my… my father’s assistant. She tutored me as well. She, uh… she was pretty strict. She would make me track my calories in an app she had access to, and if I went over – or if she caught me eating something I didn’t record – well, let’s just say she wasn’t pleased.”

Marinette stared at him in horror. “She what? What would she do to you?”

Adrien gave her a sideways glance. He seemed to regret having brought it up, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but that sounded _bad._

“Oh, not much,” he said in a voice that was probably meant to be casual. “Usually I’d be sent to my room, or else I wasn’t allowed to attend my extracurricular activities, like fencing lessons. It wasn’t that bad a punishment, honestly. It was just that that was kind of my socialisation quota, so I did my best to avoid upsetting Nathalie. It’s easier that way anyway, right?”

Marinette wanted to give him the reassurance she could sense he was desperately seeking, but her mind felt frozen. She’d known, or thought she’d known, that just because someone was rich, famous and incredibly beautiful it didn’t mean they were happy – but she’d never been confronted with such a blatant example of it.

“What did your parents think of that?” she whispered, looking down at her laced boots as she walked, knowing she probably shouldn’t be asking.

“My mother…” he said quietly. “My mother is – gone.”

Marinette jerked her head up to stare at him. “What?”

He reached out and grabbed her upper arm, yanking her backwards. “Hey, careful!”

Slightly dazed, she realised that she’d almost walked directly into a road full of busy traffic. Oops.

Adrien’s face was shadowed as he stared at – or perhaps through – the cars and buses rushing past. She didn’t know him that well, but the hardness of his expression, of his clenched jaw and set lips, felt unfamiliar somehow. He seemed so open and friendly, always offering a smile at the least provocation; it was wrong, she thought, for that softness to be gone. She felt a blinding, irrational flash of hatred towards whoever had taken it from him.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment, adjusting the strap on her bag so she didn’t have to make eye contact. “That was a really personal question. You really don’t have to answer it.”

When she looked at him this time, she almost thought she must have imagined the pain on his face. His green eyes were gentle once more, a slight smile curving his lips.

“Don’t apologise,” he said. “It’s nice that you asked. I just… I don’t really know how to talk about it. I haven’t talked about it to anyone.” The confession was rushed, tumbling out of him as they hurried across the pedestrian crossing amid a crowd of students. “I want to, but I also don’t. I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Marinette disagreed. “I understand. At least as much as I can. If… if you ever _do_ want to talk about it, just let me know.” They’d come to a halt now and she offered him a tentative smile, hoping she wasn’t being too pushy.

His face lit up. “Thanks! I really appreciate that. I think I’d like to, some time. Just maybe not now.” He gestured around them. “I think this is your stop?”

“Oh!” Marinette felt like an idiot. “Yes, it is. Uh – thanks for the drink.”

“No problem! Hey, do you have this lecture every week on Tuesdays?”

She blinked. “Yes?”

“Awesome! I want to try every kind of Frappuccino Starbucks sells. You can help me taste test on Tuesday mornings!” Adrien offered her the cup, which was three-quarters empty by now. “One last sip?”

She took one, feeling as if her whole body had just gone numb. Had he just suggested they make a regular… date? _Not a date,_ she corrected herself. _Just a walk. Get a grip, you idiot._

Still, despite Adrien’s troubling revelations, despite her uneasiness at whatever he was unable to talk about that could crush his sunny disposition like that, despite the anxiety suddenly threatening to swallow her up as she headed towards her lecture hall, Marinette felt a little bit like she was dancing on air. She’d survived a whole conversation with him without embarrassing herself too much, _and_ she had the opportunity to do it again. Not bad for a Tuesday morning.

It wasn’t until she was halfway through the lecture and deep into taking notes that she suddenly realised they’d drunk through the same straw.

Her _lips_ had touched the same place his _mouth_ had!

It was pretty hard to focus on the lecture after that.


End file.
